


I've Got Your Back (Whatever That's Worth)

by fraudoc



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fighters Guild, Gen, M/M, Tags to be added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:54:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24142432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fraudoc/pseuds/fraudoc
Summary: Modryn meets and works alongside a new Fighters Guild recruit, and in the process, deals with a problem that's been growing for a very long time.
Relationships: Hero of Kvatch | Champion of Cyrodiil/Modryn Oreyn, Male Hero of Kvatch | Champion of Cyrodiil/Modryn Oreyn
Comments: 5
Kudos: 8





	I've Got Your Back (Whatever That's Worth)

The first time they meet is unremarkable. He can barely remember it later, actually. One moment Modryn is leaning over his desk, looking over the paperwork he's been delegated to more and more since passing 70, and when he turns he's face to face with another mer. Taller than him just by a few inches, with light blue skin and a poorly shaven jaw set, tense. He looks like he doesn't want to be there, standing with one hand grasping his other bracer, not speaking. Modryn blinks, frowns. "Do you need something?"

That startles him, if the little jump to meet his eyes means anything, and when he speaks it's terse and hesitant, as though he's picking out his words just as he says them. "I'm here for work." He points to the Guild patch on the belt crossing over his cuirass, letting Modryn squint at it for a second before he speaks again. "The woman in town sent me."

"What woman."

"The..." He bites his tongue, literally, and waves a fist. "The head one, across the street."

A beat. "Vilena Donton?" He nods. Modryn inhales, rubbing between his eyes with one hand and reaching behind himself with the other. "Alright. If she sent you, I might have something. I'll speak slowly so you can keep up." Modryn sees his jaw clench, and he sniffs, reading through whichever report he managed to grab.

"One of your brothers, Maglir, defaulted on a contract, which means he didn't finish it. And we can't have that. Makes everyone look bad." The paper gets handed to him while Modryn struggles to put a name to a face. It wasn't as though they'd gotten too many new recruits recently; especially other dunmer. "Find him, find out why, and finish the contract. I don't care who does it. He was last seen in Skingrad, so I'd look there." The mer looks over the information given, engrossed in it while just standing there. Modryn snaps his fingers to get his attention back. "You can read on the way. Get going." A huff, a nod, and he leaves.

He manages to find the other's registration papers while he's gone. Gothren. Only Gothren. No surname, no previous house, no place of residence. Only Gothren. He puts his head to his hands and silently, pensively, wonders when the Guild got so desperate.

"Did you find Maglir?" Is what he says in lieu of a greeting when Gothren returns, looking no worse for wear and with the journal in hand. He gets a nod in response. "Well? What happened?"

There's a pause while he hands the book over, grip loose. "... He didn't default. He needed help. So I helped." Modryn hums, taking the journal and flipping through. It looks like it's all there, though with pages bent and the cover stained... It gets shut with a dull clap.

"That doesn't sound right. But you got the job done, and that's all that matters. I hope Maglir learned a lesson from all this." With that, he turns away to resume his own work. It takes him a few moments to realize that Gothren is still there, standing behind him with his arms held tensely at his sides. He squints back at him, and slowly raises a hand to wave him away. "Report back to Vilena for payment, and see me again when you're ready for another job. Go." Another nod, and he watches Gothren trudge out to make sure he actually leaves.

If it's like pulling teeth every time he gets orders, Modryn can't imagine him lasting too long. With the Guild's lack of new recruits, though, and his swift rise through the ranks... He'll see what happens. He exhales, sits down, and forces himself to focus on paperwork again.

* * *

"Back for more work, are you?"

Modryn is more prepared the next time Gothren comes in for a job. He looks about the same, not that that's very surprising; it couldn't have been more than a few days since his last contract. Heavy armor still dented, with the same warhammer slung across his back, and that same expression of discomfort across his clenched jaw.

_Perhaps his face is just stuck that way,_ Modryn thinks as he holds out his instructions. "Some of our boys are causing trouble in Leyawiin. Looks bad for the Guild." Gothren takes the paper and reads through it while he continues to talk, giving the occasional nod. "Getting rowdy at a local tavern, starting fights, the works. I don't mind them cutting loose every once in a while, but this is starting to come back on us. You're looking for Rellian, Vantus Prelius, and Dubok gro-Shagk."

"Have they caused any trouble before?" Gothren mutters, glancing up from his contract before shuffling it away.

"No. They've been star members as far as I've heard. Which is why you need to look into it. You can do that, can't you?" Speaking like that to a man with a hammer in easy reach is dangerous; Modryn knows from experience. When the other mer actually bares his teeth at him, he's ready to stand taller and tell him to go before any trouble starts, but all Gothren does is nod again and leave, banging a pauldron on the stair railing on his way out. Modryn keeps his shield and mace close for when he comes back, just in case.

It takes him longer this time. Understandable, considering the job. Guild members were supposed to be stubborn things, not budging from their work when they could help it- or lack of work, in this case. Gothren returns looking marginally more relaxed than he did when he left, holding his completed contract. "It's done." He mumbles.

"Good. What happened, exactly?" Modryn takes the paper and moves to gather payment while Gothren pauses, frown curling into a sneer.

"The Blackwood Company. They said they've been taking all the work for cheap. No one can get anything done down there."

Modryn huffs, his free hand tightening at his side. " _Those_ people... If they've gotten this much of a foothold in Leyawiin, then... Ugh. Nevermind." A bag of septims is tossed into Gothren's waiting hand, then tucked away into a pocket. "You did your part. I'm advancing you to Swordsman as well." Normally, that would be enough to put at least a smirk on any fighter's face, but all he gets from Gothren is a blank look. "... Keep up the good work, then. And come back to me for another job later."

He leaves, quiet still, and Modryn is left to fume about the Blackwood Company. Taking work frrom the Guild, slowing down their recruitment to barely a trickle... He can feel that there's something worse behind all this, something dark and ugly about that group that's going to rear its head eventually, but not soon enough. Maybe it was time to investigate further.

* * *

Gothren's next few contracts are done just as quickly and efficiently as the others, and while he works, Modryn tries to learn about their one trustworthy new recruit alongside looking into the Blackwood Company.

There doesn't seem to be much to him. Some news about odd jobs he'd finished before joining the Guild, favors for people farther east and in Bruma, item gathering for merchants. All done with a lot of complaint and maybe more bloodshed than necessary, but again, done quickly. Where he was from or what he'd been doing before suddenly appearing in the Imperial City is, as far as he can tell, lost to time. A mystery through and through.

His behavior during jobs paints a slightly clearer picture of the mer. Every time they meet is nearly the same- Gothren comes in, awkward and quiet, and Modryn hands his work off with some information, and he goes. Always looking that same put-together but utterly uncomfortable way, with that same small frown and eyes looking from Modryn to his contract to the floor and ceiling and back again. As hard as it is to put a finger on it, he figures he might just be anxious; having a muddy background and whatever secrets he's managing to keep with it will do that, Modryn guesses. So long as it doesn't come back to bite all of them in the ass, he's fine with it.

"That man you sent me on that contract with... He's a bit odd, isn't he?" Viranus Donton says, sitting down with his hands clasped together on the tabletop. Modryn stays standing during his post-contract checkup, giving a small shrug with his own hands held behind his back.

"A little. But he gets the job done."

Viranus hums. "I guess so. But he, well..." Modryn squints.

"What happened."

"Nothing bad. I'm not sure if it was even his fault. But he did end up getting us, well, lost, quite a few times."

"When?"

"On the way to Nonwyll Cave. And while we were there, when we ended up getting turned around... And on the way back..." His hands pull apart to lay flat, drumming his fingers gently. "Everything else was fine, for the most part. He just couldn't remember where we'd been or which way we had to go." Modryn hesitantly nods. He checks in with Vilena before he leaves, giving her the thankfully good news about Viranus' recent job, and returns home with his thoughts still on their recruit.

Looking back on that conversation now, with Gothren's next assignment in his hand and thoughts on Viranus' whereabouts racing in his head, he tries to stay positive. He's trustworthy enough. A bit tense and has memory problems, yes, but trustworthy. Putting all his kwama eggs in one barrel is a bad idea, he knows, but as he watches Gothren climb the steps of the Guild sanctuary, Modryn also knows that he doesn't really have a choice. If anyone can find Viranus Donton and bring him home safely, it's him.

* * *

Days later, Modryn sits alone, mere yards away from the building he's called his second home for years, stripped of armor and rank. He can still see into the backyard of the Fighters Guild headquarters through his window, empty besides scarred training dummies. His hands clench in his lap, teeth grinding together. One wrong call. One bad contract. One more dead son under his belt. Were he a lesser man, and had he not respected the Guild Master so much, he can imagine himself trying to argue his case. It was the Blackwood Company's fault, not his- but he has nothing to back himself up besides a journal and a conspiracy theory.

Could he just give up now? Throw away his research and all the time and energy he'd spent taking care of the Guild, even when it seemed like it was on its last legs? Start over at his age as an artist, sitting in his house and painting his days away, trying not to look so desperately over at the guildhall in silent prayer that he'll be offered his job back and given another chance to do right with it. Just the thought of it makes his chest burn, fists tightening hard enough to turn his knuckles grey.

He's stopped in the middle of his fuming by a single loud knock on his door, and doesn't get the chance to yell at whoever it is to go away before it opens. His uninvited guest nearly knocks the top of his head against the doorway when he steps through the threshold, covering white hair with a bright blue hand. Gothren, for once, looks more surprised than angry and confused. Modryn too.

"I didn't think you'd be home," he starts.

"You thought you could just break in while I was out?" Modryn stands, trying to will away the anger still clouding his mind despite just the sight of the other mer bringing it back. It wasn't his fault that any of this happened, the same as it wasn't his own. "What do you want?"

Gothren shuts the door as he walks further in, growing visibly more concerned. "Azzan said you were kicked out. And then I got demoted, and I didn't know who else to come to about it."

"Well, Azzan was right. I'm being... Forced into early retirement." He lets out an exhale through clenched teeth. That thought, still, is enough to make him see red. "And that means I can't do anything about your demotion. You'll just have to get your rank back by yourself."

"I know- I didn't come here just for that." Looking up at him now, Gothren almost looks... Hopeful? Determined might be a better word. His expression hardens when he catches Modryn's eye, and his hands ball into loose fists. "I want to... I don't know. I want to do something. About the Blackwood Company." Gothren's face darkens as he speaks on, glaring at Modryn and then the floor. "They've been causing so much trouble, and taking contracts, and now Viranus, and your job, and _my_ rank, and-!"

In the moments it takes for him to get so worked up, Modryn moves to put a hand to the middle of his cuirass. " _Easy,_ recruit." He hisses, and it at least gets him to pause, lavender-flushed face slowly fading back to blue. "Save your anger for Blackwood. I have a plan, but it still needs some work." The hand on Gothren's chestplate hesitates before moving off. "So I'll do what I can, and you focus on getting through the ranks again, just in case."

"In case of what?"

"In case things go poorly and you're blamed for it again. You'll still have made some progress in the Guild." He doesn't mention that being Champion hadn't saved him from Vilena's wrath. He should at least stay a little optimistic. "Once I'm ready, I'll have someone bring you a message to come back to Chorrol, and we'll work from there. Understand?" Gothren nods, looking a ways calmer but no less serious. "Good."

Modryn puts a hand on his back to turn him around and lead him to the door, with him glancing back to glare weakly at it. "It shouldn't take too long- two or three weeks, if that. You just focus on the Guild, for now, and try not to bring too much attention to yourself." Once they're out front, his hand drops. "Two more things."

"What?"

"Never come in without permission again. And be patient." Modryn steps back inside and shuts his door, locking with an audible click. He was sure he'd locked it before, but... He could worry about whatever implications that had concerning Gothren later. The downfall of the Blackwood Company was coming, and the sooner he starts to work, the faster it will all be done with.

**Author's Note:**

> hi. i'm posting this in the hopes that it'll make me finally finish the second part. title based on we've got your back (documented minor emotional breakdown #2) by los campesinos!
> 
> my twitter: @bradfromHR  
> my TES tumblr: indoril-nerevar


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